Defriended
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: Tami Taylor has been defriended on Facebook by her own daughter, and Coach Taylor is about to get the third degree.


**Author's Note:** This is an older piece from a few years ago I found during clean-up/organization of my computer files. I thought it was already in the archives, but I don't see anywhere, so I'm posting it. Co-written with SurlyCoach. A fluffy one-shot.

 **DEFRIENDED**

"I think Julie defriended me." Tami rapidly tapped the down arrow key on the keyboard of her laptop six times. With fervor, she clicked the button on her mouse twice. "I can't believe she did that!"

"What are you talking about, babe?" Coach Taylor asked from the other side of the kitchen table. He turned the page of his playbook and erased all the smiley faces his new assistant coach had drawn in the margins. What was with that guy? Coach Taylor had been forced to take Coach Rylie on. He was the father of the Pioneers' star quarterback. The kid wouldn't play if his dad didn't get to help with the team. They were both a bit bizarre, father and son. The son was talented, though. There was that. Coach Taylor's eraser split down the middle. "Damnit!" he muttered.

"On Facebook. I'm not getting any updates at all. I think she must have defriended me. Why would she do that, Eric?"

"I don't know, babe." He picked at the disintegrating eraser with his index finger. "Maybe it was because you posted that embarrassing baby picture of her."

"That was a cute picture, Eric. It was cute!" She nearly knocked over her glass of wine reaching for it. She brought the yellow white liquid to her lips, emptied the last ounce in the glass, and lowered it back to the table.

"To a mother, yeah. To a mother who misses her grown-up baby who's married and about to graduate from college. Maybe not so much to the grown-up baby."

Tami frowned. "I still can't believe she did that."

He stood up and got the wine bottle off the kitchen counter and poured her another glass of wine. "You sure she defriended you?" he asked as he sat back down. "Have you tried going to her wall to see if you can still get to it? Maybe you accidentally unfollowed her and you need to follow her again. Or maybe you've got it set to Top Stories and you need to change it to Most Recent. Sometimes it just sets itself back to Top Stories."

Tami's mouth dropped open. "How on earth do you know so much about Facebook?"

"I stay on top of this stuff. I pay attention because I like to make sure I'm getting all the updates."

"What are you talking about? You don't even have a Facebook account! You wouldn't touch Facebook with a ten foot pole!"

"Yeah…" He sucked in his bottom lip. She stared at him accusingly until he explained himself. "Uh…I gave in finally." He waved his hand dismissively. "Vince kept sending me those damn requests to join. And then Cafferty sent me one. And then Tinker. It's the only way I'm ever going to keep in touch with these kids, and they were my boys, you know? My boys." He shook his head. "Besides, these kids don't know how to use a damn phone anymore. They know how to type, sort of. Half the time they can't seem to find the shift key, but they know how to type. They sure as hell don't know how to pick up a phone and just say hello though."

"When did you open your account?" Her mouth was still a little bit agape. "Eric?"

"Oh, six months ago or so."

"Six months! Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you friend me? I'm sending you a friend request right now…I'm…" _Click. Type. Type. Type. Click._ "Eric? Eric!"

"What?"

"Why does your profile say you're single?"

"It does?" He closed his playbook.

"Why does it say you're interested in women?" Her voice was growing pretty high. "Wait! Why does it say you're interested in BOTH men AND women?"

"What?" He stood up and walked over and looked over her shoulder. "That's not me. That's some other Coach Eric Taylor. I didn't go to Duke. He's got a baseball as his profile picture. You may be aware of this, Tami – I don't coach baseball."

She gave him a wary look. _Type. Type. Type._ He grabbed the wine bottle again and poured himself a glass this time. One glass left. That was Tami's. She always called the last glass in the bottle. He sat back down on the other side of the table. _Click. Type. Click._

"Oh," she said, "there you are. That must be you. No picture, but it's the right high school and everything." _Click. Click._ "I just sent you a friend request."

"Yeah, Tami, babe…I don't think we should be friends."

"Excuse me?"

"On Facebook, I mean."

"What?"

"In real life, you're my best friend, of course. And my best lover." He winked at her.

"I better be your _only_ lover, mister."

He laughed. "You're all I can handle, babe. Trust me."

"You _are_ going to friend me." It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

"Yeah, I just don't think we need to do that. You know, I use it to keep in touch with the boys. That's all I use it for."

"Are you friends with Julie?"

He swallowed.

"Eric? Are you?"

"Maybe."

"Who else are you friends with?"

"The boys," he answered. "Some of the Lions. Some of the Panthers. Mac."

"Mac has a Facebook account? I didn't even know he knew how to use a computer!"

"Well, he does now. Buddy too. And both the Riggins boys."

"Any women?"

Coach Taylor looked down at the cover of his playbook. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He put an arm behind his head and squinted, as though he were thinking.

"Eric," Tami repeated. "Do you have any female friends on Facebook besides Julie? I'm _just_ curious." She didn't sound _just_ curious.

"My friends are mostly just the boys," Coach Taylor replied without daring to meet his wife's eyes. "Maybe five or six women from high school. Seven or eight from college. That's all." He peeked up at her while scratching nervously behind his ear. "They sent me requests. It seemed rude to decline."

Tami lowered the screen of her laptop and latched it shut. "You _are_ going to friend me, Eric. Or I'm going to defriend you."

"Defriend me? You can't defriend me if I'm not your friend."

"I mean in real life, _sweetheart_." She stood up.

"What does that even mean?"

"I think you know what it means."

He stretched out his legs and leaned back in his chair. "I think you need to clarify your threats, honey."

"Well then let me make myself clear." She put her hands on her hips. "You and I, Eric? We're friends with benefits. So if I defriend you in real life, you lose _all_ of your benefits."

"Hmmmm…are you using sex as a bargaining chip? Didn't that marriage seminar you made me go to tell you not to do that?" He shook his head and made a tsk-tsk sound. "You're supposed to communicate your concerns in a calm and forthright manner and _not_ use the withholding of sex as a weapon. That's what the speaker said."

"Well the speaker was a man. He didn't know what the hell he was talking about. And I believe I _did_ communicate my concerns. Now I'm going to bed, and tomorrow I'm going to log in to Facebook and see if you friended me. And then I'll _think_ about restoring your benefits package."

He got up and walked over to her laptop. "Hold up!" he said. She paused and turned. He sat in the seat she'd vacated, opened and awoke the laptop, and began clicking and typing. "There," he said. "We're friends. See?"

Tami slid into the chair over which he had hunched to friend her. "Do you mind?" she asked. "If I take a look at your wall?"

"Knock yourself out."

He didn't have anything on his wall at all, except what other people had posted there. He didn't have a single photo uploaded. He had no status updates of his own, but five or six women had posted messages on his wall along the lines of, "Hey, Eric! Great to find you on Facebook. You were always such a [great football player, sweet guy, funny guy, etc.]" Karen Meeks had actually posted, "Why don't you have a profile picture? I want to know if you're still as cute as you were in high school." Karen and Eric had dated for about three months his junior year, while Tami was with Mo.

At least Eric hadn't replied to Karen's question. Not on the wall, anyway. That didn't mean he hadn't sent her a private message.

Tami certainly didn't consider herself the jealous type. In fact, she pretty much took Eric's fidelity for granted. She had laughed at his own petty jealousies over that counselor Glenn and over one of her current Braemore colleagues. She never considered what it might be like to experience such feelings. Even now, she didn't doubt him, but she was peeved he'd kept this Facebook account a secret for six months, and the fact _did_ unnerve her just a little.

She clicked her way into his message box. He stood behind her with his hand on her chair, watching her. There were seven messages from seven different women, including Karen Meeks, and a thread with Julie, as well as a few messages from the boys. "May I read these?" she asked.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes, of course you do. I respect your privacy."

"Like hell you do! Go on ahead. Just don't read the ones from Julie, a'ight? We might be planning something for your birthday."

"Okay." She slid her arrow first over the message from Karen Meeks. _Click._

He was right, of course. He didn't have anything to hide. The women had all contacted him first, and his replies were terse. As for Karen, she had written him, "Why didn't you answer my question about the profile pic?" He'd replied, "I don't know how to upload photos." She'd written back, "But are you still just as good-looking as you were in high school?" He'd replied, "My wife seems to think so. You remember Tami, right? We've been married 22 years." Karen had taken the hint, and there had been no further reply on her part.

"May I look at your news feed?" she asked.

"You want to read my diary too?"

"You're the one who kept this account a secret for six months, Eric."

"Go on ahead. Read away."

Tami looked at his News Feed next. _He_ was getting Julie's status updates. The girl had just posted yesterday that she had received an acceptance in the mail from the _Allegheny Review_ for one of her short stories. Eric hadn't told her that!

Luke was apparently on leave and had just gotten engaged to Becky. After a long list of friend's writing "Congrats!" "Congratulations!" "Woo-hooo!" and the like came Eric's lone, less enthusiastic comment: "Call me. We need to talk."

Vince posted that he had decided to change his major from physical education to accounting, just in case football didn't pan out, even though it looked like he had a good chance of going pro. Eric had written, "What's wrong with a physical education major?" Vince had replied, "Sorry, coach, I know you put it to good use, but i've got to have options."

Tinker posted that it might have just been another piss poor day at the Alamo Freeze if it weren't for the hot customer who gave him her phone number. Eric had commented, "Maybe you'll finally manage to use the phone."

Tim Riggins latest update was, "Gave notice today. Going into business for myself as a carpenter. finally! already have six jobs lined up." Eric had "liked" his status and written, "Maybe you can come to Phili and build my wife some his and hers closets."

Landry Clarke had posted a poll, "Which is the best name for my new band?" The choices were: Crucifictorious Redux, FNL, House Centipedes, and Corruptible Seed. Eric had voted for Corruptible Seed, but had written, "Are there any better choices? And what does FNL stand for?"

Jason Street had last posted three days ago: "#2 has arrived! Another boy. Thomas Eric Street. 7 lbs 8 oz, 19", healthy! Photos coming!" Coach Taylor had liked the status and written, "Excellent choice of middle name."

Billy Riggins posted something about a charity golf tournament he was participating in. Eric had commented, "Where do I send a check?"

"Okay," Tami said, exiting out of the browser. She clicked on shut down. "Okay. Why didn't you want me to be friends with you? Why doesn't Julie want me to be friends with her?"

Coach Taylor closed his eyes. He rubbed them. "Babe," he said. He scratched the back of his neck. "Babe, it's just…you need to think about what you post. And what photos you upload. And tag. That's all. Just, _think_ …"

"Ugh!" She slammed the computer shut. "You don't know what you're talking about. I'm going to bed!" She stormed off down the hallway toward the bedroom.

"Any chance I can cash in one of my benefit checks tonight?" he hollered after her.

The bedroom door slammed shut.

 **[*]**

Eric sighed, plucked up his glass of wine from the kitchen table, walked to the living room, and settled into his recliner. He picked up the remote control with one hand and caressed the buttons with his thumb. "I guess it's just you and me tonight, babe."

Ten minutes later Tami came out in her sweats and Pioneer T-shirt. Eric couldn't help but notice how tight the t-shirt was. He'd bought her a small when she really needed a medium, because he couldn't remember what size shirt she wore, and he didn't want to err in the wrong direction. At least if he was wrong and he had bought one that was too small, instead of one that was too big, she couldn't say, "What? You think I'm fat?" Except there had been an oversight in his logical reasoning, because when he brought home the small she had said, "What? You think I'm flat chested?"

He had replied testily, "Well, maybe if I had the opportunity to see your chest more often, I wouldn't make that mistake."

She'd pointed to herself and said, "It's right here. You see it every day."

"Naturally I mean without the shirt, Tami."

"I can't wear this!" she'd insisted, and then gone and tried it on, and said, "Hmmm…I look good."

"That you do," Eric had replied. "That you do."

Tami sat down on the couch next to his arm chair. He turned off the television.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry for being suspicious of you and reading all your messages. You're trustworthy and faithful and have been for twenty-two years, and I should have allowed you your privacy. That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry."

Coach Taylor's face broke out in a self-satisfied smile. "A'ight then," he said. "Apology accepted."

" _ **But-"**_

He closed his eyes and grimaced.

" – Eric, you kept that account a secret from me for six months."

"It wasn't a secret! You didn't ask about it."

"It was basically a secret, Eric, and you know it. That's not practicing openeness and honesty, and you know how important openness and honesty are to me and to a healthy marriage. It made me feel insecure to find out you'd had that account for months. I don't like feeling insecure."

Eric looked straight ahead at the dead television screen. "Okay," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to make you feel insecure. I should have told you. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"Can I turn my show back on now?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. As he was raising the remote, she continued, "Unless you'd rather poke me."

The remote froze in his hand. "On Facebook or in real life?" he asked.

"In real life," she said.

He tossed the remote aside, grabbed her hand, and tugged her laughing into the bedroom.

"Mhmmm…" she murmured as they made love. " _Like_." When he tried a different move, she said, "Dislike."

"Sorry, babe," he sighed. "There's no dislike button. You can only like. Or you can give me a _specific_ comment."

"Here," she said, guiding his hand where she wanted it to go. " _Like._ "

He laughed and kissed her and moved in unison with her and eventually muttered, "Status Update: Eric Taylor can't hold out much longer."

"Status Update: Tami Taylor isn't quite there yet."

Eric moaned.

"Just think about FarmVille, babe."

He laughed again, but the fact that he was laughing didn't change the fact that her movements were driving him crazy. "You're all I can think about, Tami."

"Please…a little longer…just a… _Eric!_ "

"Tami!"

He rolled to the side and still breathing hard pulled her close and murmured, "I love you. Damn I love you." He smiled. "See, isn't being friends in real life so much better?"

 **THE END.**


End file.
